Nicholas Varias, Architect

Art and Poetry

Sketches of Quebec City, Quebec

Triptico

Suspended in the universe,
By an everlasting curse,
The little boy watches the world,
Feeling abandoned, feeling so cold ,
Things appear upside down,
As if played with, by a clown.
Up there flies a deadly bird,
Is it a bomber, is it the third?
After the first two hit Japan,
This may be destined for Iran.
Another ice age may begin,
For cleansing mankind of all sin.
The little boy sucks on the nipple
Of Mother Earth, the poor cripple.
A flying saucer is a tear of sorrow;
He likely sheds for lost tomorrow.
With curling hair as question marks,
His look’s becoming angry sparks.
How could I rescue this world?
Those humans cannot behold!
Is this the ending of the world?

The heavy canon of War,
Is climbing the bloody
Web of History,
All in the name of
Religion and Ideology?
Star of David,
Cross and
Crescent,
Red and
Blue Stars,
Are all firmly implanted in its path.
A Butterfly of innocent nature,
And a Dove of Peace,
Are silent witnesses.
But what is there hiding,
In the eye of the web?
The claws of the Spider,
Waiting for the end of history.

The merciless tank of destruction,
Crushing all nature’s creations
Day and night, a chain of divers,
Carry petrol into its bowels.
A swastika is running the engine,
And is so big and strong and mean,
Like anything that anyone has ever seen.
Teutonic bull horns are stabbing the sky,
The demonic brain is going high,
The decayed tooth is launching a rocket.
A golden sickle with the almighty handle,
It will soon finish the bloody harvest.
All flora and fauna are fleeing,
With no chance of escaping,
So what?
Politicians still argue and argue.